Myraneth Accolte: Little Rivers
by JennaGreenleaf
Summary: Prequel to the Myraneth Accolte series. Decades before the Lord of the Rings, a young Hobbit came to Imladris in the Company of 13 dwarves. There, he met and befriended the Lady of the Wolves, and got a small look into what was really going on beyond the borders of the Shire. One cannot compare hardship. Have compassion rather than pity, and the world will be better for it.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I only own the characters that you don't recognize.**

Prologue: Little Starlight

The little girl sat, starring off into the trees. She hadn't moved an inch since Myraneth had entered the room, nor had she said a word. Myraneth looked down at the bone-white blond Elfling beside her, "Has she spoken to anyone?" Myraneth asked.

Legolas looked up at her, "No. Everlas has tried, but it's no use."

"It's not that it's no use, Little Leaf," Myraneth said, almost to herself, "She's frightened and alone. Do you come bounding up on an injured deer? No, you let it get used to you first."

"Why don't you try talking to her, Myraneth?" A voice asked from behind her. The woman spun to face Anastasia, the oldest Mirkwood Princess, "You are the Lady of the Wolves."

"It's precisely because I am the Lady of the Wolves that I do not approach her, Anastasia. What would the injured deer think of a wolf approaching it?"

The little girl turned towards her audience, her first movement in hours, "I am no deer. And I do not appreciate being called one," The cousins flinched as one, startled to hear her voice, "If you know my name, you'll know what I am."

"Little One, I have lived in this world almost as long as it has been a world. I know what you are. You are the bastard child of a Noldor house, born to a lowly Silvan Elf. You are Tauriel, and you have a future ahead of you here. Good or bad, whether it be filled with darkness or light, you must face that future head on, Little Starlight," Myraneth held out her hand to the elleth, "Come, Tauriel, it is about time we changed for supper."


	2. Wolf's Lament

Wolf's Lament

"Her name is Riku," A voice stated from behind him, "She belongs to my brother, Estel. My sister and I gave her to him for his third birthday."

Bilbo Baggins started, nearly giving himself whiplash as he turned sharply around. Before him on the steps was easily the most beautiful Elf he had ever encountered since arriving in Rivendell. She was almost twice his height, with gold-and-chestnut hair pile on top of her head in a bun. Her eyes were ocean blue-green, and tapered over high cheekbones. Her ears extended into sharp points at the side of her head.

"You must be Master Baggins," the elleth said. Unlike the other female Elves Bilbo had met, this woman wore a crisp tunic and jerkin over forest green leggings. Her hair was pulled back from her face in warrior braids and woven with prairie grass, "the Hall of Fire is alight with the tale of the arrival of thirteen dwarrows and a hobbit. Mithrandir really outdid himself this time."

"By Mithrandir, you mean Gandalf, right?" Bilbo got the feeling that the woman wasn't just old—she was ancient, almost as old as Lord Elrond.

"Yes, that is Mithrandir's name in the common tongue," the elleth smiled. She continued down to the landing where he stood, "Walk with me, Bilbo Baggins. Riku, go and find your Estel."

Riku was a russet wolfhound to Bilbo's eyes, barely out of puppyhood.

"She's not," The elleth said.

"I'm sorry?" Bilbo asked.

The elleth looked down at him and smiled, "She's not a wolfhound. Riku is a true wolf, bred from a long lineage of master hunters and huntresses. Forgive me; I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Myraneth."

"Just Myraneth?" Bilbo asked, "Surely one such as you must have a title."

Her smile faded a little, "I know you do not mean any offense by that comment, but know this about me. I am the Lady Myraneth Accolte, Firstborn of Lord Elrond Half-Elven, Lady of the Wolves. But if you call me anything other than just Myraneth, I will stick you like a pin cushion full of arrows," It was then that Bilbo noticed the longbow strapped to her back, and the quiver of goose-fletched arrows, "But I think that Thorin Oakenshield might have something to say if I do that, not to mention young Master Gandalf may turn me into something," she paused, "Unnatural like."

Confusion spread on Bilbo's face, "I'm sorry, _young_ Master Gandalf?"

"Most are young compared to me. Even Mithrandir. Now, Master Baggins, let's get you back to your company. I believe it will soon be time for dinner, and you have wandered far indeed from the dining hall." Myraneth carefully selected a single pin from atop her head and let her hair cascade down her back—but it didn't stop there. It continued on, reaching just past her knees, "Will you be joining me?"

In his haste to catch up with his companion, he nearly tripped over his own feet.

"Tell me of the Shire, Master Baggins," Myraneth requested, "I have been all over this Middle Earth, but never to your home. I hope to visit there someday, but there is much that must occur before that can happen. Also, I am sure I have heard the name Baggins before, but I cannot remember where."

"Well, they tell me that my Mother once walked to Rivendell."

"Perchance I met her, then. What was her name?" The Elf and hobbit continued on. Bilbo found it easy to talk to Myraneth, and soon he was telling her all about his homeland.

The first of the Company that they encountered was the Wizard, Gandalf the Grey.

"Ah, Myraneth. I see you have found our burglar," the old man laughed around his pipe. He sat with two identical elves, with hair of darker brown than Myraneth's. These were her younger twin brothers, Elrohir and Elladan Elrondion.

"I would not be so casual with the nature of your quest, Master Wizard. There are many in these halls, including my Father, who would seek to stall the reinstatement of the King Under the Mountain."

"It has been stalled for far too long, Myraneth." Gandalf said.

"Think you that I do not know that, Mithrandir?" she snapped, "There is nothing I want more than for that filthy Dragon to answer for the evil he has caused. He nearly decimated the entire Myraneth species, and nearly a quarter of my wolves. I want that monster dead, Mithrandir, and if I have to let Dwarves do it, then so be it!"

"I'm sorry?" Bilbo asked once more.

"Forgive us, Master Baggins," one of the twins told the hobbit, "My sister Myraneth is the Lady of the Wolves. She shares a close tie with all the Wolves in Arda. The Myraneth are the Wolves' larger cousins. They were named after her years ago, but you may know of them as Dire Wolves."

Another Elf materialized by them, "My Lady Myraneth, my Lords Elladan and Elrohir, your Father bids you attend him in the council chambers. The Lord Elrond begs the presence of Mithrandir, as well. I am to return the Master Hobbit to his Company of Dwarves."

Myraneth stood and brushed off her leggings, "Thank you, Rainelle, but I will escort our hobbit. You take these three to Ada, and I shall be along momentarily. Come, Master Bilbo, my Ada is not to be kept waiting." Bilbo stood and followed his Elven hostess.

Only a few more minutes of walking found the Company of twelve dwarves. They had taken over a courtyard with a huge bonfire, of which Myraneth was sure they were dismantling the furniture to fuel. In fact—

She stepped right behind a young, dark-haired, short-bearded dwarf, "I'd thank you to leave my home intact, Master Dwarf. That particular piece was a favourite of my Lady Celebrian's. It belonged to her oldest daughter. I do not think you wish to draw the ire of my Lord Elrond, if you please?"

The dwarf carefully lowered the wooden piece back to the ground. It was a small chair, made for an Elf-child, with howling wolves carved into the legs. It had belonged to Myraneth when she was young enough to use it, and set out for use by the hobbit, Bilbo Baggins.

Myraneth laughed then, "Please refrain from destroying anymore of my Father's furniture. There is a wood pile very close to us for your use. I'm sure it will suffice better than thousand-year-old treated wood, Durinion."

The young dwarf looked puzzled, "What did you call me?"

"Durinion. The suffix _ion,_ in the language of my people, means 'son of.' So I essentially called you 'Son of Durin.' For that is what you are, is it not, Kili, son of Dis?"

Kili reached for a dagger before she had even finished her sentence, "How do you know my name?"

Myraneth stepped back from the dagger, "You are guests of my Father, my Lord Dwarf. I make it a point to learn the names of our guests. As it happens, I learned your name from the one you call Gandalf. Lindir tells me you threw food at him on the first night of your stay. Did your Mother never tell you not to play with your food?"

"His Mother told him, and then his Uncle told him otherwise, Lady Myraneth," said another, elderly dwarf.

Lady Myraneth laughed once more, "Lord Balin. A star shines upon the hour of our meeting," she said, "It is remarkably pleasing to see you again, my old friend."

"Balin? What—"Kili started, with Fili by his side.

"Hush, children. You have heard tales of the Lady Myraneth Accolte? The Elf who, while she did not help us to reclaim Erebor, sent packs of wolves to guide and protect us as we fled?"

"I am sorry I could not convince Thranduil to help you defeat Smaug. He is stubborn, and set in his ways. Princess Elevra of the Greenwood was at the time very ill, and King Thranduil cares much for his daughters, even if he does have thirteen of them," she sighed, "It was a trying time for all of us. Grandmother was in the Greenwood, as was I, for Elevra is our kin. Elevra yelled herself blue in the face when her Father, the King, returned with his tale. And I must admit that I was most displeased with the turn of events. That is why I sent my wolves to guide you on your journey from Erebor. Master Baggins, you just met Riku. Her sire, Noridell, spent most of his life following your people from Erebor to the Blue Mountains; he went wherever the dwarf Prince went," Myraneth continued, "Until he died, ten years ago. Noridell was great amongst my wolves, second only to Dire and Dire's son Cassan, who head up my pack."

"I did not realize she was an Elf," Fili said quietly.

"Knowing your kind's prejudice towards mine, I am not surprised that Prince Thorin Thrainion neglected to mention that part. And I've never been much of an Elf. I do not deny my heritage, my parents, but I am not Elf kind."

The dwarves around Myraneth shared identical looks of confusion, but she knew that she could not—or would not—explain to them her unique position.

"Lady Myraneth, you cannot delay," Another Elf, male this time, stepped out of an alcove, "Your Father bids you attend him."

Myraneth rose with a sigh, "Thank you, Figwit. Please inform Master Estel that I require his presence later on tonight. He shall know where to find me."

"Lord Elrond bid me to say that you would be occupied the whole night," Erinduil spoke once more.

"Then in the morning, tell Estel I will come for him," She groaned, a most un-elflike sound to the ears of the dwarves around her, "He knows I was planning on sleeping tonight. Oh, well. So be it," In an ominous tone, she added, "If you hear screaming tonight, just ignore it."

Bilbo spent the night on a small couch in the corner of the courtyard. Fili and Kili had curled up together right beside it, snoring softly in unison. Bilbo had found it hard to adjust to the snoring of the dwarves after so many years of living alone, but the journey had made it so that he could fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Still, Fili and Kili were quieter than their kin, and for that Bilbo was grateful.

The courtyard was pleasantly warm that night. Every so often, he'd hear an owl hoot off somewhere in the darkness—Fili had been telling him the difference between the different species of owls (something he would have liked to have known before the incident with the trolls), but had fallen asleep mid-sentence and just kept on talking. It had, in fact, taken Bilbo almost an hour to realize that Fili was sleep-talking to him, for Kili had decided not to inform him of the fact. It was not until Dwalin had said from behind him, "The lad's doing it again, Brother."

Balin called out to Bilbo, finally alerting him to the situation, "Master Baggins, nudge the lad awake, if you please. He'll not get a proper rest if he continues on as such."

Bilbo turned back to Balin, quite sure that neither of his companions were sleeping, "I'm sorry, who am I awakening?"

Kili then burst into such loud laughter, he woke the entire courtyard, and perhaps most of Imladris as well.

"I feel as if I've been left out of the joke," Bilbo muttered as the dwarves erupted around him. Fili found himself upright with a dagger clutched in each palm, while Oin and Gloin loomed over him, armed with axes. Even Dwalin and Balin, who knew the cause for the commotion, had reached for their weapons.

Upon realizing he was not, in fact, under attack, Fili dropped his dagger down to his side and glared at his younger brother, "I did it again, didn't I? Mahal, Kili, you're supposed to wake me when it happens, not just let me continue on as such and terrify our poor Mister Baggins!"

Now, Mister Baggins had learned a thing or two since leaving his quiet life in the Shire. The dwarves would eventually explain their antics to him; he merely had to wait for the argument between the two brothers to die down.

Though, what tended to end the arguments faster was a sharp jab at their pride.

"You two bicker like a pair of tweenage hobbit-lasses."

Fili and Kili froze mid shout—mid word in Kili's case—and turned to glare down at the hobbit.

"Right, Brother, I think we know what to do with our burglar," Fili said, his argument with Kili forgotten.

Kili smirked, "I concur, Brother."

Not a single second had passed, and Bilbo found himself on the ground, held in a two-way headlock.

"As we were going to say, Mister Bilbo, before you so rudely interrupted us," Fili started.

"Sometimes Fili does that—falls asleep without realizing it and continues on conversations. You can get anything out of him like that. He always tells the truth," Kili continued.

Fili shot a glare at his brother over Bilbo's head, but any reply he could have tossed back was cut short by a piercing scream. It tore through the calm of the valley of Imladris, shattering the serenity that had surrounded the group of dwarves (and their burglar).

"Mahal's beard, what was that?" Dwalin growled. The dwarves were up on their feet, once more clutching weapons. Fili and Kili had dropped Bilbo rather suddenly, and he was going to have bruises come the morning.

The cry came again, longer, louder, and more gluteal this time. There was something feral, something animalistic about it, an attribute was that was only seconded when a chorus of anguished howls rose up in the night.

The strongest of these howls originated from the russet wolf that tore into the center of the courtyard, a young human chasing after her.

The dwarves moved with unpracticed ease. Fili and Kili united at the shoulder, pushing Bilbo behind them, while Balin and Dwalin came to flank the Princes. Ori stood between his brothers, Dori and Nori, his slingshot trained on the wolf and her companion. Bifur, looking frankly terrifying in the light of the crescent moon, took up most of the rest of the circle by standing and glaring over Bombur's massive shoulders. Bofur threatened the intruding pair with a sausage fork (complete with a sausage). Enclosing the circle was the pale-haired Oin and the fiery Gloin.

Bilbo peered between Fili and Kili, "What? Riku?" For he recognized the russet wolf as none other than the one he had met in the halls earlier that same day.

The human turned towards him and spoke in accented common, "You know her name?"

"I met the Lady Myraneth earlier this day," Bilbo explained.

The boy's—for he was no older than a boy, barely a decade old, if Bilbo were to hazard a guess—face darkened, and his bright grey eyes turned the colour of storm clouds in the summertime, "She does not deserve this. She has fought too hard for our home to deserve this. And she will continue to fight for our home, no matter how much it hurts her."

Bilbo had the feeling he was not talking about Riku. Against his better judgment—and the company's, as well—he slipped out from behind Fili and Kili and approached the boy and his wolf.

"She'll bite if you come any closer," the boy said, "She won't mean it, but she's not in her right state of mind right now. Riku is very much tied to her Lady, and when her Lady is in pain, she feels it," he smiled grimly, "Myraneth is having one of her fits again."

"One of her fits?"

"I'm not supposed to say, but I do not understand why Ada has forbidden me. Should those who fight the Shadow not know how far it has spread? Should they not know that it takes my sister—it takes my sister almost every night and there is nothing I can do to prevent it? They say she is imbalanced, but she will get better. But how long will that take? How many more times will Myr wake the valley with her screaming before her illness has run its course?"

The boy leaned forward and intertwined his fingers into Riku's fur.

"You must be her brother, the one she spoke of. The one she gave Riku to."

"I'm not her only brother," the boy muttered, "And she's not my only sister. She is my mother and my sister and my aunt, my grandmother and my cousin, my best friend and the one who terrifies me more than anyone else. She is the Wolves, and the Wolves are her. But because of her tie to the Wolves, she hurts all the more. She feels when every single one of them dies, even the ones who were stolen from her long ago."

"Stolen?" Kili couldn't help the question slipping from his lips.

"They were so young, just puppies really, when he took them. So many years ago, before Myraneth had a good count or a good system to keep track of all of them. She was very young at the time, you must understand this. No more than two hundred years old. She couldn't help it, and they and their descendants have suffered because of her lapse," the boy had tears shining in his eyes, and he buried his face in Riku's fur, "You would call them Wargs now, from the Gundabad Mountain. They are the descendants of the wolves that were taken from Myraneth, tortured and warped until not even their own mothers could recognize them."

"Who took them?"

The boy stared at the dwarves and hobbit around him, "The Necromancer, before he was vanquished. And now we have seen those attacking travelers on the road, including your party. They are being led, by something of a nature I do not know. Ada says not to worry, but Mithrandir acts on the contrary. The White Wizard Saruman came to Imladris not four days ago, and soon he was followed by Galadriel, the Lady of Light. You were not supposed to be privy to that information, but as Mithrandir believes there to be a threat—and not a new threat, mind you—rising in Dol Guldur."

"Estel!" Someone cried, "Riku! Estel, where have you and that wolf gotten to now?"

The man who burst into the courtyard was not, in fact, a man at all. Rather, he was an Elf. The delicately pointed ears beneath his warrior braids proved it. His face darkened like thunder when he saw the circle of dwarves, "Drop your weapons!" the elf ordered, "Let my brother free!" Bilbo had met this Elf afore, as well. It was Lord Elrohir, son of Lord Elrond.

A single scream pierced the air once more, this time sounding slightly less animalistic and more otherworldly.

The Lordling visibly flinched as the Wolf let out another agonizing howl.

A second wolf entered the clearing. This one looked no less distressed than Riku, but he held his silver head high as he trotted to the one who would be his mate (though he didn't know that yet), "Riku," he said. He was not much older than a pup himself, and barely older than Riku, "Come now Riku, let's not make a scene. Myraneth will need you and Estel when she awakens."

Bilbo was trying to comprehend the new wolf _talking_ when he continued, "I know it is painful, having to share this with her, but think of how much stronger she makes us, and how much stronger we make her."

"Stronger?" Riku lifted her head off her paws, "You call this _stronger?_ You weren't firstly born into the pack, Cassan; I don't think you can remark on us being stronger."

"I may not have been firstly born into the pack, Riku, but I did grow up in it, and I grew up in it as an alpha."

"So did I," she spat, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You're an alpha, Riku, start acting like it. We come of age next year, and at that time we will be expected to step up. I'm being groomed to lead the pack, and you're being taught the roles of an alpha female. And one of those roles is to teach the pups to respect this Middle Earth, and to respect Myraneth because she knows what's best!"

"I do not dispute that point, Cassan!" Riku was back on her feet, pushing Estel out from between the two alphas, "I know how much Myraneth is to us. I know how much we are to her. We are stronger together. But right now…" she trailed off, "Right now, Cassan, we are not strong. Right now, every single Wolf in Middle Earth is vulnerable. How many of us will die tonight, because of the bond we share with our Lady? Marybella is in labour right now. She is going to lose those pups, Cassan. She is going to lose yet another litter."

"Don't bring what happened to your sire into this, Riku," Cassan warned.

"And why shouldn't I? My sire died because he was waylaid in battle by her pain!"

"Your sire was over three hundred years old, Riku—he could handle the bond. It wasn't the first time he had felt the bond during battle. He died protecting Thorin Oakenshield, as he did for most of his life. The bond may have played a role, but we will never know that. You should not blame Myraneth for his passing. He was only doing his duty."

"His duty to her!" Riku howled in frustration, "My sire is dead because she told him to go protect that ungrateful, Elf-hating, prejudice dwarf! He didn't even have the decency to tell us where Ada had died so we could bury him."

"Riku!" Estel said sharply, "We are surrounded by dwarves! Hold your tongue!"

"We are surrounded by the company of Thorin Oakenshield himself. You are not a pup anymore, Riku. You would do well to act as such, as the Alpha you are," Cassan said softly, pushing his snout under Riku's and lifting her head, "Come, let's find Myraneth. Estel, come."

The screaming had stopped, Bilbo realized with a start.

"Cassan, Riku," there was another Elf in the courtyard. This was not the Lady Myraneth Bilbo had met earlier that very day. This girl was disheveled, dressed only in loose trousers and a tunic, "Cassan, Riku, come." Her voice was hoarse, grating like sandpaper.

"Myraneth!" Cassan exclaimed softly, "You should not be up. You should be in bed." Elrohir crossed to his sister and slipped an arm around her waist.

"I need to speak with my Alphas, Cassan," Myraneth said, "And it seems my Alphas need to speak with me. Please, Riku, come and tell me what exactly it is that is bothering you. Please, I need to hear it, and you need to say it, but you do not need to say it here. We cannot burden our guests with the problems of the Pack."

Riku pushed her nose under Myraneth's palm, and the girl threw her arms around the Wolf's neck.

"Myr?" Estel asked, "You should be resting. Let us get you back to your chambers."

But Myraneth turned back to the company of dwarrows—most specifically, their burglar, "Master Baggins, I do recall meeting your Mother Belladonna, long ago. I would inquire about your sister, Bellevalia."

The young hobbit stiffened, "My sister died in the cradle, before her first nameday."

Myraneth's eyes turned stormy and wild, like the sea in a hurricane. Then, to Bilbo and the dwarrows' shock, tears began to leak from her eyes, "Oh, Belladonna. She was so happy to have that baby. Bellevalia seemed in good health, how could that happen?"

"My cousin's new wife, Lobelia," Bilbo said sullenly, "She dropped her."

"I am sorry that you never met your sister, Master Baggins. I hope the woman who murdered her was never allowed children of her own."

"Unfortunately, she was already pregnant at that time. She was, however, not allowed access to her son until he could walk for himself."

"The loss grieves me, Bilbo Baggins," Myraneth put a hand over her heart, "Upon your return from your quest, I shall give you a stalk of bellevalia from the gardens. Would you do me the honour of placing it upon your sister`s final resting place?"

"I would," Bilbo responded, "Would you spare belladonna for my mother?"

"I would," Myraneth echoed, "Hold me to that, Master Hobbit."

As she limped away, leaning heavily upon her wolves Cassan and Riku, exactly what she had said occurred to Bilbo. _Hold me to that_. She was telling him, and the dwarves, in the roundabout way of the Elves, to succeed in the quest and return to Rivendell whole. Elrohir and Estel followed the threesome with a quick word of apology to the gathered Company.

Kili was the first to lower his weapons, somehow relaxed around the Elves, "So, that was the Lady of Rivendell."

"No, that was the Lady of Rivendell`s sister," Bilbo corrected, "That was the Lady of the Wolves."

"Hence the talking wolves, right?" Kili grinned.

"Hence the talking wolves," Bilbo agreed.

The dwarrows finally withdrew to where they had been before, still slightly shaken from the night`s excitement. One by one, they dropped off to sleep, until finally, it was only Fili, Kili, and Bilbo left awake.

"There's a whole other world out there," the youngest dwarf Prince muttered, "One that lives in shadow, but not under the shadow of a Dragon. We may have lost, but how can we compare? How can we say that our loss is more important?"

"Kili, I don't think any of us can declare one's hardship to be more than anyone else's. It's just not the way the world can work. Have compassion instead of pity, the world will be better for it."

Kili looked at his brother. Bilbo shot a glance at the other sleeping dwarrows. Balin, not as asleep as he pretended, caught his eye and winked. It was then that Bilbo realized that Thorin may have been a rally point, exactly what his people needed to get them through exile.

But it was Fili who would never falter, even when faced with the Gold sickness.

It was Fili who would be their King Under the Mountain.


	3. Epilogue: A Departure

Epilogue: A Departure from the Professor's Reality

Later, much, much later, Bilbo saw Riku again. The warrior alpha was resplendent, her reddish coat and white muzzle speckled with dried blood. At her side was the dappled-grey wolf, Cassan, who had spoken so sharply to her in that courtyard, so very long ago.

Bilbo sat, numb on the ice, beside the corpse of the one who he had learned to call his best friend, when the presence of the Lady of the Wolves made itself known. Bilbo had not seen the Lady Myraneth for quite some time. She stepped from between her alphas, tears in her oceanic eyes. He knew she had powers of healing, inherited from her Father, but he also knew that there was no sense in asking her to try.

She needed to save her strength, and Thorin was already gone.

"Lady Myraneth!" The cry was from one of the Wood Elves, one that Bilbo didn't recognize, "This one, he's still alive!"

There was no way. The orcs had broken his neck as a message to Thorin. There was no way Fili could have survived that fall on top of it all.

"It seems the dwarrows really were hewn from stone, Master Baggins," Myraneth was already running, before even finishing her comment. She skid to a stop on her knees beside the dwarf Prince, hands glowing silver with magic.

It took minutes, tense minutes, before Fili's breathing evened out and it became clear that he really was alive. In that time, Bilbo had joined the Elves beside the Dwarf Prince.

Myraneth sat back on her heels, breathing heavily, "I repaired his spine. Thankfully, the break was between the bones, and not of the bones, because then I wouldn't have been able to heal it. He still has a broken leg, but everything internal has been healed. He will live. He may walk with a limp for the rest of his life, but he will live. Erebor will have its Durinion King Under the Mountain. I fear he will never be the same, though. He has lost his brother, the one he was always supposed to protect. But you did protect him, King Fili, and his soul will make its way to the Hall of Mandos, to the Halls of your Fathers," Myraneth's voice was so soft be the end that Bilbo could hardly hear it. She turned towards him and reached into the satchel she wore at her belt, "Bellevalia and belladonna, as promised, Master Baggins. It is not fresh, but it means all the more. It went to war and back, as did you." The dried sprigs were barely in Bilbo's hands before she collapsed beside Fili, dead to the world.

"Myraneth," Bilbo said, even though he knew she couldn't hear him, "This will be placed on my Mother and sister's final resting places. And know this: the debt you felt you owed the House of Durin has been repayed. Fili knows his duty, and will perform it well. Rest, Lady of the Wolves. You will be needed again in this Middle Earth, I know."

In the time Myraneth slept, Tauriel mourned the loss of the Dwarf Prince who she had come to love, Thranduil sent Legolas (inadvertently) to meet his best friend, and Bilbo kept vigil over the only remaining heir to the House of Durin.

By the time the company found them, Bilbo too had joined Myraneth and Fili in unconsciousness.

They buried Thorin Oakenshield and his sister-son Kili, son of Dis, two weeks later in the heart of Erebor, in the Tomb of Fallen Kings.

The very next day, they crowned Fili, son of Dis, King Under the Mountain.

 **Now, normally I try to stick as close to canon as I can, with a little leeway for my own imagination, but I can't bring myself to write a canon ending. So instead, I did something both better and worse. The dwarrows have their direct line King, but the King has lost his little brother, and Tauriel's heart remains broken.**


End file.
